


Returning from abroad

by SketchLockwood



Category: 15th Century CE RPF, Historical RPF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-13
Updated: 2020-10-13
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:47:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26989228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SketchLockwood/pseuds/SketchLockwood





	Returning from abroad

Padua, Italy  
November 1461

The snow fell onto the empty streets below. How queer it was, so different to London. London where the streets bustled with life. The scholars from the university now sat within their rooms, books open and the room was silent. 

John too was hard at study. That was until the door opened. John did not look around to see who was there, only heard the voice of the tutor. “You cannot storm in here and-“ he started in Italian. There was a sigh before he said under his breath. “Englishman. Give it here.” He heard shoes on the floor boards and the door close before he felt the tap on his shoulder. “I do not like interruptions John.” He handed him the letter all the same.

John recognised the seal within an instant. He wished to open it no more than he wished to contract the plague. He had escaped England, escaped the chaos, the fighting, the war. Now he knew what this was. 

His fingers broke the wax, acutely award some of the younger scholars were watching him intently. 

None, none save a select few knew his identity. He had tried to keep his titles away from this life. Tried, and failed. 

All would know now he was not all that he seemed. He read the letter without showing his emotions. He was summoned back to England by the Earl of Warwick on behalf of the new king. 

Richard of York had been far from a friend when Tiptoft left England in 1456. When he heard about his death in January, he had been far from in a state of mourning. Though he had known the outcome would be open war. Open war at the head of which would be a youth with an untamed ambition. 

Edward had subsequently become king, destroying most of England’s nobility to get there. The rest were now being summoned to swear loyalty to him. Wherever in the world they were, however much they wanted peace. 

**

London   
January 1462

It was pissing it down and he was soaked to the bone. That made his mood little better. He had been dragged from Italy and back to this? 

Christ, he would kill his brother in law when he saw him. Why could they not have forgotten his existence? Surely Edward had? 

“Whoa!” He clung to his reins as the horse he rode reared, spooked by thunder in the air. He brought it under control. “Good boy.” He patted its neck. “Christ.” He shook his head as he trotted into the Tower. The gates had been thrust open for him. Here the king was in residence. At the advice of Warwick who felt that the first few months on the throne may be turbulent. Correctly so John was sure. 

“John!” Dick was soaked too, water dropped from his nose. “Dismount and come quickly. Inside before you catch a chill.” John dismounted, throwing the reins to the groom who looked more displeased to be out of the stables than John and Dick at their soaked clothes. Tiptoft followed Warwick up the stairs and into the royal chambers. The smell of wood burning filled him with joy. How a fire was needed. “You must be freezing.” 

“Yes.” He tried to hide the displeasure from his voice.

“Hmm.” Warwick hummed. He shrugged. “You know why you were summoned here?”

“Because you want to know if I will swear fealty to the new king? I assume that is it. For that could not be done at a distance.”

“That and you were requested by the king.”

“I-?” He opened his mouth. Closed it. 

“Not by name. He remembered your administrative processes. He asked for a man he could rely on to be as good as you.”

“You naturally told him he could have me?” John knew he sounded unamused. Dick sighed and frowned. 

“You don’t have to say yes.”

“That was not in the letter you sent when you brought me back to England.”

Dick grinned. “Sorry about that. Did I miss that bit off?”

“Prick.” John muttered with a smirk, laughing as Warwick brought him into an embrace. “I’ve missed you Dick.”

“We had sober words last time we spoke-“

“Sober because you were being ridiculous.”

“Now my ridiculous ambition has led to Edward’s presence on the throne.” Warwick grinned. “You think I’m still wrong?”

“Only because my pride hurts to admit you’re right.” He laughed. “Tell me, how does your brother treat my niece?”

“Well they have a son now.”

“That is good news I already knew, he is kind to her?”

“How could he not be? Your niece is strong, like her mother. Not that he would, but if my brother was to step a toe out of line, let alone hurt her, he would be beaten back into place I am sure.”

“Good.” Tiptoft laughed a little too loud. “Where is he?”

“In the north with Isobel.” 

He simply nodded. 

“Touching though this reunion is.” The voice made them both jump. Edward stood in the doorway. Worcester dropped into a bow “Come through.” He waved a hand. John rose up, stopping as he reached the doorway, Edward had not moved to let them through. “You’re soaked to the skin.”

He wanted to say he was aware. Did not. “I thank you for your concern your grace. I’ll surely be fine.”

“Nonsense. You have clothes at your London residence?” Tiptoft nodded. “I’ll have my men fetch them for you.” He clicked his fingers at a servant “organise that would you?” He said nothing else as he turned back into the room. 

John followed. At the side of the desk was a man, scribbling frantically. From beneath the left eye was a scar, a scar that disappeared under his beard. Where a wound had run deep. “Will, this is John Tiptoft, Earl of Worcester.” Warwick spoke. “John this is William Hastings, Edward’s chamberlain.” 

John had not realised he was staring until Will frowned. “I got the scar at Towton.” He offered. “If that’s what interests you. Fighting so that Edward could be king. I noticed you’re unmarked.”

“Don’t judge Will.” Edward reproached. “Not every man is skilled enough to be a soldier. Besides, we should wear our scars with pride, that’s what papa always said. That’s why I keep saying you should shave that bloody beard off.” 

Hastings rolled his eyes and said nothing. He returned his attention to his papers. “You know why you were asked here?” Edward said to Worcester. 

“To swear fealty.”

“That, and because in the past you’ve held great responsibility. You did it well. So I heard from Dick anyway.”

“I thank your grace-“

“You can call me Edward.” 

He nodded. 

“I told him about how you served justice under Henry’s regime and, well, he said you did a good job.”

“I didn’t realise my cousin would bring you back from Italy, but I’m pleased he has. I have offices I wish to bestow upon you. First however, there are people I wish to try under my law.” John was silent. “I trust you are fine with that responsibility?”

“Of course Edward.” 

“Good, you’ll be aided by Warwick.”

He was dipping his toes in the water, John knew, to test the currents of John‘s loyalty.


End file.
